A Different Perspective
by Veesh the Frog
Summary: Who's ever heard of a muggleborn Slytherin? Izzy Griffiths has no idea what's waiting for her at Hogwarts, and what she finds will change everything. Rated T for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Alright, so I deleted the story I originally had up because I decided to change a bit of the plot. I hope to continue on with this story, and hopefully you all will enjoy! I so wish I could meet JK Rowling, gah.**

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You'd think a train taking you to a wizard school would be, well, magical. But no. The steam train's most prominent feature was its bright red paint job. Getting to the train's platform was much more interesting, however. Izzy had been panicking, wondering how she'd ever get to Hogwarts. She didn't have an owl to send letters, or any other pet for that matter. Why couldn't that Dumbledore man have given her more information?

Izzy felt her ears turn warm and red as angry tears pricked her eyes. _This is hopeless. I'll bet that this was all some cruel prank that Jackson set up or something, or that Madam Lacey did to get rid of me._ In her panic, she nearly missed the raven-haired boy wandering around with an identical look of confusion on his face. She put her cold hands to her ears to cool them down. The boy was thin and a good few inches taller than her. He was carrying a cart just like hers, except his held a gorgeous snowy-white owl. Izzy gasped at the creature. She had always been fascinated by owls.

Watching curiously, she saw him walk up to a large group of people. There were two identical boys and one wearing horn-rimmed glasses. The other was nearly as tall as the twins. The other was a rather plump woman holding hands with a small girl who looked a cross between angry and sad. They all had fiery red hair like telephone booths.

 _They're a family_ , she realized, with a bittersweet pang that resonated somewhere in her stomach. The mum was rubbing the nose of the shortest boy. He didn't seem too happy about it. She pushed the urge to giggle back down her throat.

The black-haired boy had approached the mother and spoke to her softly. Izzy was greatly confused by what she saw next. The spectacles-boy took a start and strode towards the brick barrier. She blinked and he was gone. The same went for the twins, and then the mum and daughter, and then the shortest boy and the black-haired boy. After they were gone, she stood for a few seconds, swaying. Then, as if in a body not her own, by instinct she walked towards the same barrier.

 _This is insane,_ she thought anxiously. _I'm going to crash into the wall and make a fool of myself in front of all these people and oh, what if they catch me and ask me what I'm doing and where my parents are? What am I going to tell them?_ She closed her eyes as the cart was mere inches away from the wall. There was a momentary silence, and then noise smothered her ears. Opening her eyes, she saw a brilliant red steam train that read _Hogwarts Express_.

* * *

That brought her back to her original thought: You would think a train taking young witches and wizards to ruddy _Hogwarts_ would be a bit more, well, magical.

Izzy's mouth hung slightly open as she gazed in awe. Platform 9 ¾ was nothing interesting compared to the actual people who were bustling here and there. There were witches and wizards wearing robes of all colors, from lime green, to bright orange, to dark purple. All were surrounded by kids, some of whom were carrying pets like toads, rats, and, Izzy gasped, _owls_.

She saw a round-faced boy looking mortified being scolded by his grandmother as she walked by. "Neville, I can't believe...lost him _again_...happens at Hogwarts?" Pulling her eyes away, Izzy wondered how she was going to get her trunk on the train. She found an empty compartment, and stood on the steps with the trunk just in front of her. Izzy lifted one end of it from the bottom corners. About five minutes later, she was sweating and panting with only one end of the trunk up the stairs.

Plopping herself down on the floor, she wiped her brow and tried to catch her breath. _I can't do this,_ she thought miserably. There was only four more minutes before the train was off. Just then, she heard voices coming up behind her. She stood and brushed her skirt hurriedly.

"-so father says that I can't bring my broom to Hogwarts because first years aren't allowed, but this was in front of the Minister, you see, at home he told me he'd find a way to send it to me at Hog-" The pale, blonde boy and the two boys behind him went quiet as they approached Izzy. The two boys flanking the pale one looked big and stupid, at least in Izzy's opinion. The actual pale boy didn't look very kind, though, she supposed, was very good looking. _I'll call him Blondie,_ she decided. Something about this boy intimidated her. Instead of backing down, she drew herself up to full height and looked straight in his pale grey eyes, daring him to speak first.

Blondie gave her a once over and noticed her bated breathing and trunk half on and off the train. He nodded towards it. "Do you need help with the trunk?" he drawled. Whatever Izzy had expected him to say, that wasn't it. Eyes widened slightly, she nodded her head. She leaped out of the train and grabbed the end that was still half off. Her arms shook, but held the weight nonetheless. The boy walked over to her. "Here, I'll grab this end. You're a girl, you won't be able to lift it long," he smirked.

Heat flushed her cheeks as spikes of anger bubbled in her stomach. He was a sexist little pig, on top the cold, arrogant demeanour. "Excuse me, but I've held it this long. If you could just grab the other end and _lift_ instead of talking, that would be very nice, thank you," she said through gritted teeth, glaring at him. He looked a bit taken aback, but did as she said. His goons stood by, watching the exchange, heads moving back and forth from Izzy to Blondie as though watching a captivating game of tennis.

Finally, the trunk was on the train. The train had started to move less than a minute after, at which time Izzy and Blondie. Both Blondie and Izzy were breathing hard. "Thank you," Izzy said when she had caught her breath. "No problem," he replied. The twinge of pink that had appeared on his cheeks had faded and his breathing had evened out.

"C'mon, Crabbe, Goyle." The boys turned and began to leave.

She assumed those were the names of the two larger boys. _I wonder what the Blondie's name is._ Before she lost her nerve, she ran up to him and tapped his shoulder, her long, dark, red-brown hair swinging behind her. He turned.

"What?" he said, sounding annoyed.

"I realized I never caught your name. I'm Izzy Griffiths," she put her hand out.

He took it and shook. It was cold and waxy, almost as if he were a statue at Madame Tassauds.

"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

She felt a giggle pushing its way up her throat. _He sounds like he's trying to be like James Bond._ Part of that giggle escaped. Blondie-no, _Draco_ -frowned.

"You're one of us, right?"

The question caught her off-guard.

"I'm a witch, if that's what you mean,".

Draco looked frustrated, the corners of his mouth facing downwards.

"No, you silly bint, I mean, are you a pureblood?".

Izzy had no idea what that was. Her confusion must have shown because Draco's face twisted in disgust.

"Mudblood."

"I'm sorry, Draco, _what?_ " Izzy said it cheekily. To be honest, she didn't know what that meant, but it was easy to tell that it was some sort of an insult.

Draco sneered. "I called you a mudblood. Just that fact you don't know what filth you are makes you worse." He turned away from Izzy's outraged face, looking over his shoulder to say "Oh, and it's Malfoy to you. Crabbe, Goyle," Draco- _no, Malfoy!_ -motioned to his goonies and left the compartment without another word.

Izzy was furious. She still didn't know what 'mudblood' meant, but he had called her filth. That much was enough to understand that she did _not_ want to be anywhere near him at school. Professor Dumbledore had briefly explained the idea of Houses, how there were four, all of them with very odd names, and each had students of a different quality trait. She remembered there was one for the wise, and one for the ambitious and cunning. She couldn't remember the other two but all she knew was that she didn't want to be in the same House as _that_ slimy git!

Izzy left her compartment to explore after she had cooled down a bit. She peeped into a compartment. The was a tall black boy sitting with two very familiar-looking red-heads. They were leaned over something and talking animatedly. Without a warning they stood up and made to the door. Izzy fell backwards, trying to make way for the elder boys who were carrying something.

They looked kindly down at her, if a little amused, as she picked herself up off the ground, blushing madly

"Er, sorry. I didn't mean to spy, it's just, well, I saw you two-" she nodded slightly in the direction of the red-heads, "-on the platform and I don't really know anyone else, and, well, now I'm not really sure what to say so I'll just shut up now." She said all this is a great rush.

"That's alright. You're a first year?" the black boy said.

Izzy moved her head up and down violently, not trusting that bloody mouth of hers.

"Well than. I'm Lee Jordan," he held out his hand. She tentatively shook it.

The red heads had equally mischievous looks on their faces as they held out their hands. Izzy found herself liking them already, even without knowing their names.

"I'm Fred," intoned the one on her right.

"And I'm George," said the one on her left.

They grinned wickedly, and spoke together: "Welcome to Hogwarts."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Some of the sections spoken by McGonagall and the Sorting Hat are directly from the book, so I give all credit for those passages to J.K. Rowling! Hope you like this chapter =) Rate and review please!**

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The three boys had left, muttering something about a spider. Izzy shook her head in amusement. The last of her angry flush drained from her cheeks. She turned and headed back to her compartment, deciding that she'd had enough excitement for one train ride.

The sweets cart had come, filled with candy she had never seen. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Treacle Tarts, and so many others. Izzy didn't have much money on her, but one small box of the Every Flavor Beans couldn't hurt. She couldn't resist; anything with sugar in it attracted her like bees to honey.

Izzy thanked the lady and stared wide eyed into the box. There was so much she didn't know, she realized. It was a whole new and different world. How was she ever going to learn the culture, let alone the school material?

Pushing away her thoughts, she enjoyed trying to guess the flavor of each bean before plopping it in her mouth, cringing and gagging or murmuring with pleasure. The sky steadily faded to a light indigo color and the blue disappeared. Izzy got: black pepper, pumpkin, seaweed, grass, molasses, spearmint, and graham-crackers. She had even tried an odd, amber colored one that she thought would be toffee but was actually ear-wax.

Finally, the beans were there no longer. _I wonder what school will be like. What will I use my wand for? How do I even_ use _it?_ Just the thought of her wand, she felt the urge, the need to look at it. This had become somewhat of a calming ritual over the past couple weeks for a reason that Izzy couldn't explain to even herself. She had kept in a small, dark blue woolen knapsack that was almost the exact shade of blue as her eyes.

And there it was; her wand. Dark ebony wood with a unicorn tail core, 8 ½ inches, "light and supple, good for charms," the old eccentric wandmaker had said. Ollivander, if she had remembered correctly. Apparently, an ebony wand with a unicorn tail core was somewhat rare. Izzy guessed it was because a dark wood was paired with something so light and innocent.

Izzy waved it around, entranced by the violet, turquoise, and silvery sparks that flew out the tip of the wand, the warm and cold feeling that encased her hand. A thought lit up her head. _What if I can change the color of the sparks?_ Mr. Ollivander had said that it was quite easy to change the color of the sparks, you just had to concentrate a bit to change the color while the sparks were still shooting out of the wand. Izzy could remember his voice clearly. " _The colors are all easy to make. However, the shades and lights are quite unusual. Only the wand can make those. But then, the wand chooses the wizard…"_

Izzy frowned. If there was one word to describe her, it was headstrong. Once she got an idea in her mind, she'd never let it go. This wand was going to make black sparks for her or her name wouldn't be Izzy Griffiths. She concentrated. And concentrated. After what seemed like hours, the bright blue sparks seemed to turn a shade darker. A few more minutes and Izzy knew she wasn't imagining it. It had turned to a dark sapphire blue and seemed to be transitioning to a navy blue. It was almost there! It was almost… almost… _so close-_

The compartment door opened and in the split second that Izzy turned her head, the almost-black sparks went back to their original bright blue. Izzy groaned with frustration before turning her head to the door, to see who had interrupted her. It was a girl with very bushy brown hair. "I'm sorry, have you seen a toad? A boy called Neville lost his." Izzy stared at the girl. The girl stared back for a moment before adding "Oh, I'm Hermione Granger, by the way."

Izzy held out a hand. "Izzy Griffiths."

Hermione sighed and motioned at the seat in front of Izzy.

"Hey, d'you mind if I sit in here for a while?" Izzy nodded and she sat down with a small smile on her face. "I've been looking for the toad for quite a while. I suppose Neville found it but forgot to tell me. I can't believe I spent my first train ride to Hogwarts looking for a toad."

Izzy tried to say something to Hermione. _She seems so smart. She must know so much about this world, wish I did._ Izzy weakly said "Forget that, I can't believe I'm _on_ the train to Hogwarts!"

Hermione shook her head up and down feverishly.

"I know what you mean! According to _Hogwarts, A History_ , the castle was created hundreds of years ago, and has so many secret passages that not even the teachers know them all. The founders' names were Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin, and Helga Hufflepuff." The names sounded very familiar to Izzy, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Seeing Izzy's look of confusion, Hermione supplied, "They're the names of the Houses. I've been asking around, I don't think Ravenclaw would be too bad, but I really want to get into Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best."

Blushing slightly, Izzy sheepishly said, "Er, which houses hold what type of people again? I sorta forgot."

Crisply and clearly, Hermione stated, "Gryffindor is for the brave and loyal, Ravenclaw is for the wise, Slytherin is for the cunning and smart, and Hufflepuff takes the rest."

Izzy's eyes went downcast. _I bet I'll be chucked into Hufflepuff. Better than Slytherin though._ Hogwarts, A History _said that more dark wizards are produced from Slytherin than any other house._

Izzy cast the thought aside, and went on chatting animatedly about things they had learned in the beloved _Hogwarts, A History_ , such as how you couldn't apparate inside or on the grounds of the castle, and how the ceiling in the Great Hall was bewitched to look like the sky outside.

It was a few minutes until the girls had realised that the train had begun to slow down. They jumped up rapidly, Izzy to get her robes on and Hermione to look out the window.

"Oh my God, oh my God…" Hermione was muttering.

They couldn't quite see the castle yet. As they stepped out of the train, a booming voice startled the living daylights out of Izzy.

"Firs' years here, firs' years!".

They followed the call in the direction of a gigantic man, but losing each other in the crowd. The large man seemed unreal, like a vision, though he was real enough when Izzy was shoved hard into him.

He looked down. "What're yer doin'?"

"Erm, sorry, I didn't mean to, someone pushed me," Izzy mumbled, brushing some invisible dirt off her robes.

"Oh. Well, then. Me name's Hagrid, by the way,". He turned his head. "OY, you three, do _not_ try to throw that in the lake!" And with that, he walked away, taking great strides, towards Fred, George, and Lee Jordan, who seemed to be trying to to dispose of a large, well, _thing_ (with eight hairy legs. Izzy shuddered.) by throwing it in the lake.

"Four on a boat!" Hagrid yelled over and over. She got in one, not really caring where she sat. The boats moved. There was a dampened-sounding chatter that floated over the lake, encasing Izzy in a trance. She closed her eyes. It was peaceful; the gentle rocking of the boats, the faint light on the lake that Izzy assumed came from the castle.

She nearly missed the collective gasp from the first year. Izzy's eyes flew open. The castle was enormous, with large towers jutting out. Lights lit the rooms of the castle. The grounds sloped, and entered into a forest that seemed to go on forever.

 _It's beautiful,_ Isolde thought in awe.

They were all marched into the castle, and stopped in front of a large oak door. Izzy was reminded of the ducklets that walked by the pond near the home, following the mother duck.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" Hagrid knocked three times on the castle door, and right away, a tall woman in emerald-green robes was seen.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Izzy felt somewhat safe _and_ scared while in the presence of this woman, Professor McGonagall. She walked them up to a chamber off a hall. The students were looking at each other nervously. Izzy was with them in feeling anxious, but kept her face clear of emotion. Her father's diary was filled with one phrase, repeated over and over: "Put on a brave face." Therefore, to any of the students, and perhaps even the teacher, Izzy looked quite calm, bored even. The only other student that Izzy could see who bore a similar expression was, to her chagrin, Malfoy.

Izzy realized with a start that Professor McGonagall had began addressing the hall of students with a small speech.

"-Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, you house will be something like you family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room." Professor McGonagall then went over the houses, and the process of points and the house cup.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting," she paused for a moment. "I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

Just like that, she was gone. The students murmured amongst themselves about how the test was to take place. Izzy knew exactly how, since there was a paragraph on the Sorting Hat in _Hogwarts, A History_ , but it seems not everyone had read through it. Just then, a group of students gasped. There were bright white shimmery apparitions that floated through the walls, speaking as if it was the most normal thing in the world. _Ghosts._ Izzy shivered as one walked, no, _floated_ , through her. It felt like someone had dumped a large bucket of ice water over her head, only much colder. Chatter burst amongst the students. Izzy felt rather awkward as she didn't have anyone to speak to.

Professor McGonagall came in and shooed the ghosts away.

"Now, form a line and follow me."

Heart in her throat, Izzy walked after her. A great pair of double doors opened revealing the Great Hall.

Izzy barely noticed the four long, large tables that stretched from one end of the hall to the other. She barely noticed the dark, clear, and starry night that appeared to have stretched down into the massive room, where the end of the walls and the start of the sky was indecipherable. The hundreds of thousands of candles floating above the students' heads were nothing more a trivial matter compared to the racing pace of Izzy's heart.

 _What house, what house, what house? Oh no. What if I get into Slytherin?_ She desperately wanted to be in Gryffindor. A Ravenclaw would be alright, too. Bloody hell, she'd rather take Hufflepuff before she went into _Slytherin._

Consumed in her thoughts, she nearly missed the beaten hat that looked like it had seen better days sitting on a stool in front and center of the Hall. Her eyes widened. _That must be the Sorting Hat._

The brim of the hat had a tear in it, and as it flapped open, Izzy realized it was something like a mouth. It began to speak:

 _Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

She could barely keep back the childish giggle that had been growing in her mouth. A silly stress-induced image came in her mind of the tattered old hate gobbling itself up for breakfast with a fork and knife.

The rest of the Sorting Hat's speech went by and the Great Hall burst into applause, and quieted itself down. The Sorting Ceremony had begun. Professor McGonagall was reading names off a rather large scroll of parchment. Izzy was back to anxiously worrying. The Sorting Hat's song had, ironically, taken her mind off the Houses for a while, but the rocks in her stomach had come back. She rocked herself back and forth, side to side, a rather bad habit she got when she was nervous.

Izzy recognized none of the names until a "Granger, Hermione" was called. She smiled when she saw her practically run up to the Hat and yank it on. Almost immediately, the Hat called out "Gryffindor!" A loud cheer emanated from a table full of students with red and golden scarfs and ties. She saw a few red-haired boys, too. _It's probably Fred and George_ , she thought while clapping along with everyone else.

"Griffiths, Isador".

Her heart pounded as she made her way up to the hat, aware of the hundreds of eyes on her. The last person she saw before the Hat's brim covered her eyes was Malfoy, waiting in line, all attention on her.

"Well, well, we have a tricky one don't we? Intelligent, I see, Ravenclaw may suit you. Not a Hufflepuff, though, you're too strong-willed for that. Perhaps Gryffindor."

Izzy's heart beat with excitement. _I'm not going to be in Slytherin!_

"Ahh, so you _don't_ want to go to Slytherin. Hmmm, how interesting. Let's see, you're certainly smart enough for it."

The smile on Izzy's face dropped as she realized where this was headed.

"And that strong will? You know Slytherins will do anything to get what they want. You seem like the perfect fit. Except," the Hat seemed to have sensed Izzy's panic, "you don't want to be in Slytherin? You'd do great things. You fit a small amount in the other Houses," a bit of hope entered Izzy's heart, "But though it may be against you wishes, the only House you properly fit in is SLYTHERIN!".


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Chapter 3, folks. Hope you like it. Rate and review please!**

 **P.S. This is still in first year =) There will be less chapters of the earlier years at Hogwarts because Izzy won't have much involved with the whole plot until in later books, which you'll all see soon =)**

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The room seemed to be spinning. She could barely put the hat back on the stool, or walk back to the table full of forest-green ties and scarfs. They all eyed her as she walked by, none looking all that friendly. Izzy sat at the secluded end of the table, with no one around her.

Dazed, she turned her attention back up onto the other first-years about to be sorted, not really paying attention.

"Malfoy, Draco".

The familiar name snapped Izzy back from her thoughts. The pale boy strut his way up to the stool, smirking as he did so. The hat had barely grazed the tips of his hair when the hat called out "SLYTHERIN!"

Izzy groaned. Not only was she stuck in Slytherin for the next seven years, it was with that Malfoy jerk. His goonies, Crabbe and Goyle, had already been sorted and were sitting on the other side of the table, a few seats down from Izzy.

Malfoy swaggered up to Izzy's side of the table and plopped himself down in front of the dimwits. He laughed at something, and in turning his head, he fixed his eyes on Izzy. Trying desperately to ignore him, she looked straight ahead at the Sorting. She felt him sit down next to her. He drummed his fingers against the table, his pale grey-silver eyes boring into her head. _Tap, tap, tap_. Her eye twitched. Over and over, the sound of his fingernails drove into her head like an ax. Her temper flared. She whirled around to face him.

"Would you _quit_ it?"

Malfoy's face had the air of mild surprise to it.

"Took you long enough." He turned and spoke to Crabbe and Goyle. "Hey, guys, I think the mudblood's deaf!" The amused look on his face disappeared, replaced by disgust and contempt.

"That doddery old hat let a piece of filth into Slytherin. Might as well treat it like it should be." He smirked. "See you around, stinking _mudblood_ ". He spoke the insulting word louder than the rest. She soon realized why. The other Slytherins heard, and looked at her as if she had grown two heads and was emitting a rather foul stench. The whole table murmured, and Izzy shrunk down into herself, glad for once that she was short and small.

A name was then called that swept a rush of silence across the Hall, and even got Izzy to peek her head out a bit.

"Potter, Harry".

A boy with jet-black, and rather messy hair stepped forward. As he turned to face the Hall, the barest hint of the legendary scar could be seen just before the hat was placed on his head. A burst of recognition ignited in Izzy.

 _That's who I saw on the platform, talking to the red-haired family! I think Fred and George are in it, the Weasleys, if I remember correctly. Harry Potter! He was in that book, and he defeated Lord Vo-no, you're supposed to call him You-Know-Who, when he was only a baby. I didn't know he'd be coming to Hogwarts. The poor boy, he lost his parents. At least he didn't know them. Not knowing what you have and losing it is better than knowing and then losing it,_ Izzy thought bitterly.

After a few moments, the hat called out "GRYFFINDOR!" A deafening cheer came from the Gryffindor table. A tiny hope that Izzy didn't even realize was there extinguished. Izzy could faintly hear the Weasley twins screaming "We got Potter! We got Potter!" _Of course he'd be in Gryffindor. How could he be a Slytherin? His family was torn apart by one._

The rest of the Sorting faded away as Izzy sank below the waves of depression that washed over her. The only other person she remembered was a tall, lanky boy with bright red hair that Izzy assumed was a part of the Weasley family. _He looks a bit green,_ she observed. He got into Gryffindor, and the green tinge to his face disappeared as he walked back to sit near Harry Potter.

The Headmaster's speech and dinner blurred into one. Izzy couldn't focus on his words and the food all tasted like sand, even though she was eating her most favorite food in the world, treacle tart. _All thanks to Slytherin._

When the last of the food had disappeared from the plates, the students were dismissed. The first years were told to follow the prefects to get to their common room. Izzy stood up reluctantly and followed. The rude-looking prefect lead the first-year Slytherins down into the castle. She thought the area rather looked like dungeons, with the faint light, and the damp, wet, and mossy feel of the place. The prefect stopped at an unassuming stone wall and spoke in a loud clear voice, "Mudblood".

For a second, Izzy's heart beat to a stop, afraid he was calling her out in front of all these people. That panic passed for a brief moment as the stone wall opened up into a large room filled with plush couches and chair, and a warm fireplace. _There's a password_ , she thought. Dread filled her veins as she realized that she'd have to mutter that awful word she had already come to hate in order to get into her own common room, where she'd be treated like trash by her fellow Slytherins. She stepped into the common room, basking in the irony of the situation.

The girls were lead up a staircase to the girls' dormitory. The first-years unpacked their belongings near their respective four-posters. The other four girls chattered, Izzy left alone in silence. She caught the names _Pansy_ and _Millicent_ in the conversation. Trying to lose herself in the packing, she worked efficiently, swiftly moving little trinkets she might need, like extra quills and ink bottles, in a drawer tucked inside a small table next to the bed.

Not looking, she reached inside the trunk and grabbed on to the nearest object. A small, frame was clutched in her hands. The frame itself was a plain cherry red wood, with flowery and leafy vines engraved into it. A man with dark blond hair, nerdy-looking glasses, and warm hazel eyes smiled up at her, hand in hand with a gentle woman, with dark brown, near black hair, and light green eyes the color of seafoam. Izzy felt tears well up in her eyes, and rigorously blinked them back. A rebel tear worked its way down her face, onto her chin, and dropped onto the glass, above where the man and lady's hands were touching.

Wiping away the tear, and smiling briefly down at the photo, she set it on top of the table. She turned around to find the four girls right in front of her, Pansy in front, Millicent behind her, and the other two fanned out behind them.

Trying to keep her voice steady, she said "Hello. Er, I'm Izzy. It's nice to meet you." She held out her hand, and then quickly put it down seeing the steely glint in Pansy's eyes.

"How dare she! The mudblood actually thinks we'd want to breath the same air as it, let alone touch it's filthy hands?!" Pansy squealed, looking furious.

 _That's it_ , Isolde thought furiously, blood pounding in her ears, _I've had enough_. "First of all, I'm not an 'it', and second of all, mudblood is a bollocks word. What does it even mean?" Izzy spat at Pansy.

She sneered. "Dirty blood." And with that, she walked and shoved Izzy to the side. She took Izzy's photo frame and dropped it roughly on the floor.

Izzy lunged for it, only to be stopped and wrenched back by the arm by Millicent.

She was reduced to begging. "Please, _please_ , no! STOP IT! No, that's a photo of my-" Izzy's shrieks were cut off by the sound of breaking glass. Pansy had jumped and stomped her foot down on the frame. The glass cracked, and the frame she had so dearly loved broke in half. Izzy struggled against the girl who held her captive, fighting her tears. _Put on a brave face_ , she desperately told herself.

Pansy took one of the larger shards of glass, and placed it in her hands. Izzy had given up trying to escape, and quietly shook in anger. Pansy wrenched one of her hands away. She took the shard of glass and made a deep wide incision in the palm of Izzy's hand. She gasped in pain. Dark red blood seeped out of the cut.

Pansy smirked. "See. Dirty blood."

Millicent let go of Izzy and she immediately made towards the ruined frame as the girls walked away towards their beds. Tiny shards pierced her skin and embedded themselves there as she looked through the mess for the photo. There it was, torn and tattered because of the pieces of glass that went through. Placing it for a moment on the table, she grabbed the emergency gauze from her trunk and carefully wrapped it around her hands after pulling out the glass. Thick red blood seeped through the cloth, sprouting out like red flowers.

She placed the photo inside her drawer to protect it from further harm. She allowed a couple tears to slip out before aggressively wiping them away. _I'll go see Professor Dumbledore tomorrow_. And with that thought in mind, she fell into a troubled sleep. The last thing Izzy remembered before she let the wariness take over were the smiling faces of her parents safely tucked away in the drawer of the table.

The next morning, Izzy woke up early to avoid any trouble with the other girls. At the end of her routine, she re-wrapped her hurt hand and quietly slipped out of the dorm and commons, eventually finding her way to the Great Hall. A few students were there, mostly sixth and seventh years. Setting her things at the Slytherin table, she went about half the way to the teachers' table before thinking it through twice.

 _Even if Dumbledore wanted to help, what could he do? They're not going to suddenly change everything they know. They're not going to accept me, he can't make them. Nor can he switch my house._

Izzy looked up at the kind man whose eyes twinkled, seemingly inviting her over, and made a decision. She walked back to the Slytherin table.

* * *

It had been nearly one month since Izzy was sorted into Slytherin. She was trying to look on the bright side.

For one thing, she had a friend! Well, maybe. It was that girl from the train, Hermione. She turned out to be very smart and intelligent. They mostly just did their homework together in the library, asking each other for opinions from time to time. Occasionally, they even had an actual conversation. Her mum was apparently a huge fan of the Beatles, and passed on that trait to Hermione. Sometimes they'd discuss muggle school. Hermione really was her only friend. And even then, she wasn't quite sure you could call it that.

She seemed to have thought out everything she said to Izzy, not unlike she did when giving an answer in class. It might be because she didn't have many other friends either. Izzy had never seen her talking to other Gryffindors, and she and Ron(He was the redhead who went in with the black-haired boy at King's Cross. Ron and Harry had been inseparable since that first day on the train.) frequently got in these small little spats in class. Izzy thought Hermione's distant attitude was because she was a Slytherin and Hermione was a Gryffindor.

What a predicament she was in; it seemed none of the kids from other Houses talked to her or liked her because she was a Slytherin, and the Slytherins detested her because she was a muggleborn, or in their words, a _mudblood_. Malfoy reminded her of it at least twice a day, as if the password to the common room weren't taunting enough. He accidentally bumped into her the other day in the Great Hall, and made great show of putting on a face as if he'd stepped in cat dung, ripping off his cloak, and flinging it at the nearest available person. He went on, saying he'd rather be going around the school in his starkers than wearing a cloak dirtied by a mudblood, causing raucous laughter from the Slytherin table. Izzy didn't think her face could've gotten any redder.

It became apparent that this would go on for the rest of her time at Hogwarts. Now she took the insults and shoved them away in a metal box, somewhere she couldn't touch them, and sealed the box with lock and key.

Hogwarts itself was going brilliantly, if she didn't count the hundreds of times she got lost due to the moving staircases, or ambushed by that wretch, Peeves. He seems to love swearing, dropping water on first years, and overall, causing as much trouble and chaos as he can. The paintings could be rather amusing. She was rather fond of one on the third floor, Sir Cadogan. He was a tad paranoid at first, but got very loyal and protective once she got to know him. She was doing well in all her classes, of course not as well as Hermione, except for Potions. Snape seemed to be an awful person, just like any other Slytherin. He hated the Gryffindors, especially Harry, with a passion. If Malfoy walked in late, he got nothing, but if Harry did, "I'm glad to see the famous Harry Potter could be bothered to come join us mere mortals in class. 20 points from Gryffindor."

As hateable of a person Snape was, Izzy had to admit, she rather liked his teaching. Potions was by far her favorite subject. She understood it in a way she wasn't sure the other kids did. Next was Transfiguration, and then Charms, after that's Herbology, and then her least favorite, Defense Against The Dark Arts. DADA was a joke, with that stuttering Quirrell teaching it. He seemed rather off. She didn't buy the whole story about how he met werewolves or vampires, or whatever else she had heard, and was permanently traumatized. She reckoned he must've been looney from the beginning, and only just began to show it.

A class she adored was flying. She loved heights, she was always a bit of a daredevil. Harry had much better luck than poor Neville did. He really was the hero type. Izzy knew it when he caught that Remembrall for Neville, despite the consequences.

It made her a bit sad that she had no one to share these thoughts with. Halloween was coming up. _No use for a costume,_ Izzy thought. _I'm already a ghost._

* * *

"Professor, I need to go to the bathroom," she said, raising her hand.

Professor McGonagall frowned. "Make it quick."

After muttering a quick "thank you, Professor," Izzy raced to the bathroom. She did her business, washed her hands, and was just about to leave when she heard muffled sobs. The noise led her to a bathroom stall. Putting her ear against the door, she spoke.

"Hello? What's wrong?"

The sobs subsided for a moment. The person responded.

"I don't have any friends. I came to Hogwarts, so excited, and now? Who do I talk to? I have no one."

Izzy recognized the voice right away. Hermione.

Leaning against the door, Izzy ignored the hurt feeling she felt. _She doesn't consider me a friend_.

"I don't know who you are-" she lied through her teeth, "-but I'm lonely, too. It happens. We just...we have to hope. I guess that's the only thing we can do." Unconsciously, she rubbed the scar on her palm from that first night. It hadn't faded.

Hermione sniffled and Izzy quietly left her to herself. _If she doesn't consider me her friend, then fine. It's alright, I suppose. I'm not sure that I'd want to be friends with a Slytherin either, if I were in her position._

That was on Halloween. Very soon, Hermione Granger became very happy with her friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Apparently, they saved her from a mountain troll.

Izzy didn't have anyone to talk to in the library anymore. Hermione hadn't _truly_ been her friend. Not really. But it was better than nothing. Isolde supposed she had to follow her own advice. To hope.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I know it's been forever. Forgive me, to the few readers who care. It's been a crap year, but here's to a great holiday season to you all and a happy New Year.**

* * *

The year went on. The fall time soon transitioned into bitter cold winter. Christmas morning for Izzy was met with no surprise: no presents at the foot of her bed. Isolde quietly got out of bed, the dormitories empty due to everyone being home for holiday. All with families to care for them. Isolde spent the day in the kitchens with the house elves, feeling somewhat better around them. She was taught how to make the treacle tart that made her mouth water, and vowed to come back to learn more every so often.

Towards the end of the year, the school went into a frenzy as word of Harry Potter nearly getting beheaded by a giant badger or setting a fire in the third floor corridor or some other odd and dangerous act got out. Luckily, he had gone with his two best friends, Ron and Hermione, and they were all safe. The same couldn't be said of Quirrell, who apparently had died. Turned out he wasn't the bumbling fool he made himself out to be.

The last day of term, she went to Professor McGonagall's office. The strict looking woman glanced up at who had come to disturb her final day of work.

"Yes, Miss Griffiths?"

"I was hoping you could take me to see Professor Dumbledore." She spoke in a crisp no-nonsense tone that rivaled the very professor's own.

McGonagall raised her eyebrow, setting down the quill she had been jotting on some parchment with. "May I ask why?"

McGonagall's keen eyes did not miss the brief look of desperation on the girl's face before it melted into cool indifference. Despite her monotone face, Izzy spoke quietly, vulnerably, "I was hoping I could arrange a different summer plan. Could you take me to see him? Professor?" she quickly added.

The head of Gryffindor house nodded before taking her up to a statue. "Toffee."

A staircase emerged, to which the head pointed her chin towards. "Take the staircase up."

Izzy did as she was told and bowed her head in thanks. Reaching the top, she encountered a set of large wooden doors. Just as she went to open them, they glided open, revealing the face of a kind man, not of a headmaster.

"Isador, what a pleasure. Come in, please."

Walking silently in, she decided it best not to wonder how he knew of her arrival. He say down at his desk, and Isador made to sit in front of him, but a gleam of brilliant fiery red caught her eye. A beautiful bird sat perched on a stand. She stood, entranced.

"Fawkes, Isador. Isador, Fawkes. Would you like to take a guess at what he is?" Professor Dumbledore kindly questioned.

"A phoenix," Izzy whispered, her eyes never leaving Fawkes. "Incredible strength and healing powers."

"You're an intelligent girl."

Finally tearing her eyes from the majestic bird, she sat down opposite to Dumbledore.

"I take it you didn't come here to stand in awe of Fawkes."

Laughing a little for the first time in months, she shook her head. Taking a deep breath, she blurted out, "I was wondering, could I possibly stay at Hogwarts for the summer?"

Her heart dropped as he shook his head sadly, seeming to genuinely regret it.

"I'm afraid that we can't allow you to stay, you have people waiting for you back home, and-"

Izzy cut him off before he could finish his sentence. "I don't have a home. I'd rather stay here than at the orphanage."

She reprimanded herself for losing her composure. Get it together.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Hogwarts isn't your home?" he questioned.

The metal box holding her feelings gave a rattle. Struggling to keep her voice calm, she answered, "No."

"That's a shame, but rest assured, Hogwarts will always be there for you, as will all the staff."

"Just not during the holiday." She was surprised at the amount of bitterness that came through her tone. The metal box recovered with flying colours and made up for the momentary weakness by clearing any emotion left.

Dumbledore spoke more firmly, though kind. "We do the best we can, but we can't allow it, not now at least."

Izzy was already getting up and leaving the beautiful office, looking back once at Fawkes. "Thank you for the conversation, Headmaster."

* * *

Her pounding head hit the thin mattress for the first time in nine months, the feeling similar to riding a bicycle after a long time. Her old room smelled just as stale as it had, it was just as dark and damp, just as claustrophobic. Izzy shut her eyes, hoping to get any wink of sleep, an escape from the memories associated with this cursed place.

As soon as she had stepped into her quarters after checking in with Madam Lacey, who seemed less than happy to see her, she saw the person she had most dreaded seeing: Jackson Byrne.

Jackson Byrne was about five years her senior, and had nearly twice her weight in muscle. He had been a wrestler at a top school before his parents died. He had extreme anger issues, and since he no longer had a opponent in another fellow wrestler, he took to Izzy as a punching bag.

He sneered, reminding her strangely of a dirtier, less aristocratic looking, and far less rich version of Malfoy. "Welcome back, freak."

She had opened her mouth, to say something to him, but her will died in her throat. It would be pointless. She just wordlessly walked away to unpack her clothes. With a shudder, she turned over in bed, remembering what had happened a couple months after arriving when she attempted to stand up to him.

 _"You're a freak, you know that?" he taunted, walking forward, attempting to corner her. He said that after she had been crying in the gardens and accidentally made the small "stream" made of dirty water in their playground spurt all over. That had been her magic out of control, she later realized._

 _Her lower lip trembled slightly. "No, I'm not, that was the wind."_

 _"As if. You're a freak, we all know it. Why do you think Madam Lacey hates you?"_

 _A burst of anger fueled her confidence. "She hates everyone, including you, you complete buffoo-" she was cut off. Jackson had pushed her back against the corner, his arms pinning her against the wall._

 _He growled, "What did you call me?"_

 _Izzy struggled against him, but it was no use. She couldn't get free, but her legs could move…_

 _"I called you a buffoon," she responded, shaking. Before he could react, she jerked her knee up to hit his sensitive area, and ran as fast as she could; she wasn't fast enough._

 _He caught her and dragged her, holding her mouth closed with his other hand, to the new, empty wing of the orphanage. No one could hear her cries as he punched and kicked her until she was lying on the ground, unable to even move. It wasn't until later that night that Madam Lacey counted her missing from her dorm and went looking for her that Izzy received help._

 _Madam Lacey gave him a month without a mattress for that little stunt, and had to sleep on the cold metal cot frames. It was almost as long as it took for Izzy's bruises to fade from her face and ribs. He hated Izzy even more, but didn't dare lay a finger on her afterwards. Rather, he took to verbally abusing her instead. Regardless, she never stood up to him again._

* * *

Time at the orphanage was a time of routine.

 _7:00_. Wake up. _7:05_. Brush your teeth. _7:10_. Take a shower before the cold water gets colder. _7:15_. The water's colder. _7:30 - 8:00_. Breakfast. The options were oatmeal, watery milk, and more oatmeal. She always wanted the fresh option, and chose oatmeal. Chores then took up the rest of the day, at least for the older kids. Madam Lacey always gave Izzy the tougher ones since the other kids would complain the entire time while working. She cleaned the chimney, washed the bathroom floors and sinks, and such. Dinner was a simple sandwich served to the children once their chores were finished. Then 15 minutes until lights out.

For Izzy, those 15 minutes were spent getting slapped or punched in strategic areas by Jackson. He was angrier than ever, and found relief in using Izzy as a punching bag. Izzy wondered if he felt like she did sometimes; helpless. Maybe this is how he feels like he's in control of at least one thing. When she'd get up the next day, Madame Lacey seemed to turn a blind eye to Izzy's mottled purple and black bruises on her face. Seemed to tell her silently, As long as you can do your chores. After a week or two this became a part of her routine.

The summer passed quickly, though each day felt like it dragged on forever without end. As the days blurred around her in routine, she smothered the warmth, the kindness, the love. It was only a weakness, it seemed.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Hi all. HAPPY NEW YEAR! Are you excited? I sure am, 2016 was crap, but here's to new opportunities for us all. This next chapter takes place in Izzy's 2nd year, and the middle years are going to be a little short on detail, because a lot of the meat of the story I'm planning on having towards the last 3 years. Hopefully you guys like this, every review is appreciated!**

* * *

 **Second Year**

The train chugged on, the trees flying past out the window. Izzy napped on her seat, curled up like a little bean. That is, until she heard the compartment door slam open, at which she snapped up, fully awake. What greeted her eyes was not a welcome sight.

"Oh what a shame, the mudblood's back," Malfoy smirked.

Izzy stood tall, taking a deep breath through her nose. The words didn't hurt her, and she may as well have some fun if she was going to be hated on. "You know Malfoy, it didn't smell like dragon's dung until _you_ stepped in," she pinched her nose tightly.

The blonde rat opened his mouth hotly to no doubt say something foul back before two familiar mops of red hair appeared behind Malfoy.

George cooed to Fred, "Likkle Malfoy better watch his mouth, else we'll call our dear brother Percy, who happens to be a prefect, isn't that right Freddie?"

Fred grinned like a devil, "Yeah, that's true. How many detentions do you think Malfoy would get if Percy turns him in for bullying the students, Georgie?"

Before George could respond, Malfoy shoved his way past the twins, muttering darkly, and Izzy assumes he leaves for his own compartment.

She breathed a sigh of relief, staring at the twins. "Thank you, really."

They replied as one, "Anytime."

Fred began, "You know, we've noticed-"

"-and this is just a leap of faith-"

"-that although you may be a Slytherin-"

"-they don't really take to you-"

They finished as one, "-so we'd like to courteously take you in as an apprentice."

"At least, we'll give you a go, but if you're like the rest of those tossers, or we'll be forced to leave you," George added.

Izzy took it in for a moment, her brain processing it all. "Not that I'm complaining, but... _why_? Why would you be this nice to me?" she breathed, almost scared.

They exchanged a look before Fred answered, "Because you need _someone_ as friends, and who better than us?"

She felt the corners of her mouth go up. "When do we start?" she asked, referring to their infamous trickery. They gave her a sly look.

"Now."

* * *

The two dragged her down to where Lee Jordan was sleeping in his compartment, not unlike Izzy moments before.

George began looking through a small bag he had been carrying around while Fred turned to Izzy. "Izzy is it, can I call you Iz, good, so Iz. We're obviously attempting to scare the ghost out of our fellow prankster. We're letting you watch and learn for this one, alright?"

Izzy just meekly nodded back, though her eyes were wide with anticipation. "What're you going to do?" she whispered as George carefully begins to open the compartment door.

Fred put a finger in front of his mouth while George creeped in, holding a small red object which he placed right by Lee Jordan's ear.

George tiptoed out, shutting the compartment door, yelling "COVER YOUR EARS!". Izzy barely had time to do so before a huge _BOOM_ sound shuddered through the train. She opened her eyes to see Lee nearly piss himself from the sudden scare, covered in a bright red powder. Once the ringing in her ears faded, she could hear Fred and George nearly tearing up from laughter, and she found herself joining in.

Lee threw the compartment door open, chuckling a little himself. "You two arses know I'm getting you back for this, right?"

"Worth it," Fred choked out between howls.

Once they had all calmed down, Lee seemed to take notice of the small girl. "Who're you?" he asked Izzy.

The twins answered for her. "Her name's Izzy. We're going to be her mentors now, and since she's a Slytherin, we can ensure that she'll not only have a good few pranks on the green gits, but a couple friends too."

She flushed, feeling a little kernel of happiness bloom within her. "Thank you," and before she lost her nerve, "How I would love to get that git Malfoy, make him go running to his Daddy, 'the mudblood girl put piss in my shampoo!'" Izzy laughed, at first not noticing the silence from the boys.

George spoke carefully. "Are you muggleborn?"

She only nods, already attempting to figure out what she said wrong.

They glanced at one another.

"And he's called you that before?"

Izzy nods again, snorting a little. "They all do, Malfoy at least thrice a day." Silence. She saw Fred's knuckles go white, and all their jaws set with anger.

"It's alright, I'm used to it," she attempts to soothe. Lee mutters, "I'm going to kick their arses."

The twins nod in agreement. "We'll help."

"No no, that'll only make them more angry. Besides, I'm not even in the common room until curfew hits, so I'll be alright," Izzy said, and gratefully their tension released. As the boys began chatting, Izzy realized they truly would have hurt them if she hadn't asked otherwise of them. That fact made her smile, and she returned to the conversation with her newly made friends.

* * *

It was winter holiday, and the gang was out planning an elaborate prank on Percy. She had opted out of this meeting, claiming she wanted to sleep early. She couldn't stop smiling when earlier, Fred had said she could come to the Weasley's burrow anytime she'd like, but since none of them were going back during holiday, it'd be pointless.

She stepped behind a statue when she heard Malfoy and those pigs that passed for humans coming into the common room.

The goons asked Malfoy about the attacks and the heir of Slytherin. Izzy frowned. _Didn't they already ask him that yesterday?_ Apparently Malfoy thought along the same lines, for he snapped at them.

Malfoy was going on about how if the monster was attacking mudbloods, he hoped it would kill Granger. Her hands balled up into fists. Her face contorted into confusion when she saw Crabbe doing the same thing.

He was turning red...actually his _hair_ was...and Goyle's eyes weren't normally that green...

Her eyes widened. Izzy remembered a moment from a few days ago when she overheard the Golden Trio, as the Slytherin's dubbed them, talking about a certain potion...

"Crabbe" and "Goyle" saw each other, and identical looks of panic lit up their faces as they ran out of common room, screaming something about a stomachache.

She realized Malfoy may have seen it and go after them. Rushing to where he was sitting, she did the only thing she could think of that would distract him long enough so that Harry and Ron could get away. Izzy sat atop Malfoy's lap.

For about a second before he pushed her off, a look of disgust on his aristocratic features.

"I don't need filth on my pants, mudblood," he snarled. She stood up smoothly, shooting him a mirror of his own smirk. He glanced at the door. "Er, you were eavesdropping, weren't you?"

"Possibly," Izzy waited for the insults to come.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, "Did you see anything, _off_ with Crabbe and Goyle? Like, with how they look?"

Izzy gave a tinkling laugh, her brain racing as she tried to come up with a convincing lie. "What're you on about, Malfoy? I think you ate one too many pumpkin pasties at the feast. You must be really out of it. First, thinking that there's something wrong with the pigs, and then, you stoop as low as to ask a mudblood for her opinion," she grinned.

He scowled, looking distracted. "Shut up, mudblood."

And with that, he stomped up the stairs to the boys dormitory like a child throwing a tantrum. She followed suit, heading to the girl's dormitory, thankfully finding the rest of them asleep. Izzy carefully took out that picture of her parents. Silent tears began running down her face as she clutched a small plush owl her mum had gotten her when she was two.

It was _that_ day. January 3rd. She fell asleep, her cheeks sticky from the salty water and her parents' faces tucked beneath her pillow.

* * *

 _This year was infinitely more enjoyable than last year_ , Izzy reflected on the train back to King's Cross. Granted, the school nearly shut down when poor Ginny Weasley was taken, but Harry Potter saved the day. _He seems to do that a lot_ , Izzy noticed. Fred and George went out of their mind with worry, and Izzy was surprised to be feeling the same. It warmed her heart knowing that Ginny was safe, _spunky girl, she is_.

Exams went exceptionally, since no one had to take them, and she celebrated by eating a whole cake to herself in the kitchens, which Fred and George had shown her how to get into. The house elves were more than happy to help and chat, and Izzy was happy for it, holding an affection for a small elf named Bibble.

Her thoughts were skewed when the gang stopped by, the compartment door opening. "Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," the twins chorused back, Lee opting for a wave.

"We just wanted to thank you for being a wonderful apprentice and partner in crime, hopefully for years to come," George proclaimed with a theatrical wave of his hand.

Fred continued on in the same manner, bowing, "And we would humbly ask that you visit our small family any time you see fit."

Izzy laughed at their antics, and nodded. "Yes please to sticking with you all, and, as for visiting, I'm not sure I can, Madame Lacey is a bit strict," she fidgeted, her heart sinking at the thought of not seeing her friends for three months.

"We'll find some way," they promised, and with one last grin, Fred, George, and Lee padded off.

Izzy smiled. _Much better year._


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Hello! Thank you so much to Friend Of A Fangirl for reviewing, it really makes me so happy when anyone reviews. I'm not sure I'll be able to update as often as I have been the past couple weeks since my holiday is over starting tomorrow, but I'll do my best =) Hope you enjoy the next chapter, rate and review please!**

* * *

 **Chapter 6 - Third Year**

It was so, so cold. It was all she could do to keep herself from shaking like mad. She felt hollow. She had been in a compartment by herself on the train when the lights went out and led to the frigid darkness. The very air seemed to freeze. She heard high pitched screaming from the compartment next to her, where Fred and George were, and the next thing she knew, Malfoy was running into her compartment. He hid behind Izzy's frame.

"What on Earth d-d-do you think y-you're d-doing Malf-f-foy?" she spat out the best she could while shivering. He had a look of terror on his face, and his eyes weren't focused on anything in particular. His breathing was uneven and rough, and he seemed to be rocking himself back and forth to comfort himself. Fear shot through her veins. Malfoy, however vicious, would never pretend to be vulnerable and scared. This was really him, and whatever caused Malfoy to be so horrified must be nearby.

The air seemed to drop several degrees right then and there, and Izzy felt a cloak of depression fall on her shoulders. She couldn't remember what it felt like to be happy. She turned just in time to see a darkly cloaked... _thing_ , open the compartment door. If Izzy were in the right state of mind, she might have heard Draco whimpering in fear, but all she could see was memories.

 _A lady knocked on her door, and Izzy opened it, thinking it was Mum who tended to forget her keys. The lady came in and asked for her grandfather who lived with them. Later that day, with tearful eyes, he told her that mum and dad were on holiday, and weren't coming back, that they were in a better place._

 _The weather was quite cliché for the event, dark and rainy. Tears streamed down her young face as she saw her parents getting buried into the ground, the last time she'd ever see them._

 _The memory changed. The day she saw her grandfather die. Her grandfather handed her a letter, telling her not to open it until her 15th birthday, and walked out to go to the bakery to get her favorite, treacle tart. He paused in the middle of the street to pick up a fallen pound. From the door watching out, she screamed and yelled for Grandad to move, to get out of the street, and he turned to face her, a look of confusion on his face before the double-decker bus ran right over him. Blood spattered the streets, and the smell of metal filled her nose and the sound of metal clanging echoed in her ears._

 _Then she finally had run out of places to go to, when she was seven years old and delivered to a nearby orphanage, where Madam Lacey and the other orphans had done nothing but make her life a living hell._

 _That first night at the school replayed in her mind, and screams and yelling echoed back until they were all she could hear. A faint voice yelled her name, slowly getting louder._

" _Izzy...Izzy…...IZZY!"_

She woke up to someone shaking her body. Izzy blinked open her eyes to see a pair of grey-silver gems staring down at her own.

"Thank Merlin, you're finally up, I don't have to touch you anymore." Malfoy's shaky voice held traces of malice.

Izzy gingerly sat up, and could have sworn there was a momentary look of relief on Malfoy's paler than usual face.

"Shut your trap, Malfoy," she muttered.

Just then, a man walked by the compartment, his robes in a pitiful state of disarray, before turning his head and seeing Izzy sprawled on the floor.

"Oh dear," he strode in and gently helped her stand up, and offered both the Slytherins chocolate. Well, forced them to eat it, more like.

She happily accepted, biting down on the rich chocolate and immediately feeling warmth rush through her body. From the corner of her eye, she saw the man get up to leave, but she frantically got to her feet. "Erm, sir, what, what was that?"

"A dementor," he answered, his eyes shifting away. "I must go speak to the driver, please excuse me."

"Thank you, um…" she scrambled for a name.

"Professor Lupin," he smiled faintly and left.

She turned around to face Malfoy. "Get out," she ordered flatly.

He leapt to his feet and approached her, sneering. "Or what, mudblood?"

Izzy stared straight back, remembering an old phrase her grandfather used to say. _You scare away the villains by pretending to be like them._

She smirked, staring coolly at Malfoy's silver eyes. "Or I'll tell everyone that ickle Dwaco was a wittle scared by the dementors and came into the mudblood's compartment so she could protect you. Now _get out_."

He glared a moment longer before shoving past her and back to his goonies. Izzy breathed a sigh and munched on her chocolate as she went next door to the twins.

"Hey, you lot alright?" She peeked her head in, giving them a once over. Their skin was paler than usual, but other than that, she could detect nothing else wrong.

"Yeah, we're alright. You?" George tipped his chin up to her.

"Yeah...may have fainted, but s'fine…" she mumbled through a chunk of chocolate, taking a seat and making herself at home.

"You _what_?!" they exclaimed, identical looks of concern falling on their faces.

"Erm, yeah. I fainted. Saw some stuff, but like I said, I'm alright," she assured, already regretting telling them. She could feel that little bubble growing, a little space of tension that tended to happen in her head when things got rough.

"What did you see?" Fred questioned.

"I told you, I'm fine," she said louder, the pressure building in her head, hoping they'd get that she didn't feel like talking about it. No one knew about the fact she was an orphan other than the teachers.

They exchanged glances. George tried once more, "Iz, please, if you'll just tell us, maybe you'll feel be-"

She exploded. "What, I'll feel _better_? So what if the dementor showed me the worst moments of my life, I remember them _every day_. Telling someone about it isn't going to change _any_ thing, it won't change how Jackson is an arse every time I go back for summer holiday, it won't change the fact that the orphanage is a piece of horse dung, it won't bring my parents and grandfather back!" She didn't realize that tears were streaming down her face until a couple salty drops graced her lips. With the back of her hand, she wiped her face and gathered her breath, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Sorry about that," she breathed, not able to meet the twins' eyes.

Izzy felt a hand on her back. Fred.

"Don't say sorry," George murmured.

"We won't tell anyone, if you'd like," Fred sent a comforting smile toward her.

Izzy managed a nod. "Thank you, really," she gratefully smiled.

"What else are friends for? Besides putting frog eyes in supper, that is," George grinned, attempting to lighten the mood.

Izzy let out a strangled sounding laugh, and pride shone in George's eyes. Fred put his hands on Izzy's shoulders, staring for a moment before abruptly slingling her across his shoulders. She shrieked in surprise, hanging over his shoulder and glimpsing a crowing George behind them.

She playfully scowled at him before giggling as Fred stepped out of the compartment, running up and down the aisles and yelling "FRESH SNAKE MEAT FOR SALE!"

As her body tumbled up and down through Fred's rough driving, the wound that had been torn open due to the dementor started stitching itself close.

* * *

It turns out, Professor Lupin was the teacher who handed her chocolate on the train, and was also to be the new DADA teacher. First lesson ended up being quite an event. Izzy laughed herself hoarse at the sight of the boggart as Snape in Neville's grandmother's clothes.

However, while waiting in line, she pondered what her fear would be. Spiders and other varieties of crawlers and creatures never really scared her. The Slytherins no longer scared her. Madame Lacey was more or an aggravant rather than a fear. She stepped forward as the line moved up, right behind Hermione who was behind Harry. He was up, but strangely enough, Lupin stepped in front of him before the boggart could get to Harry, and shifted its attention to Lupin instead. A milky white orb formed, and Izzy frowned. _Why would he be afraid of the moon?_ She dismissed the thought as he dismissed the class.

The week flew by and in no time, it was Friday. They were making a potion which rapidly increased the rate of plant growth, and Izzy frowned at the recipe on the board. _Putting the entire Germinum fruit in_ _is pointless. The catalyst is the oils from it. That's all in the zest._

Izzy debated on it, deciding to take the risk. She was always good at potions, and her overall marks wouldn't be affected by the one potion going wrong. In went the zest, and within moments, the potions turned to the opaque cerulean blue it was supposed to.

"Very clever, Miss Griffiths. Why did you not follow the instructions?" there was a slight edge in Snape's voice. Izzy nearly jumped, wondering how long he had been standing there.

"Well, erm, the oil from the Germimum fruit is all that's desired, and we don't need to add the entire meat of the fruit to get that effect. Adding extra water through the pulp of it could make the next step of it finicky," Izzy finished, searching Snape's face for any sign of confirmation.

He stepped back. "Meet me after classes today at seven o'clock here. Don't be late." With that, he strode away to check on the others' potions.

She nearly groaned. Izzy had been hoping to get George back after he'd somehow gotten itching powder in her shampoo. _Tomorrow, I guess_ , she grumbled in her mind. All the same, she was intrigued as to what awaited her at seven that evening.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: I think I'm actually going to spend a little more time on this year for some character development. Hope you guys like the chapter, let me know what you think! =)**

* * *

She creaked the door open to be met with an empty room. She stepped in and placed her bookbag beside one of the tables. A beautiful scent filled her up, and almost in a trace, Izzy walked towards the source. A steamy cauldron of a sheeny liquid lay resting on the desk. She took a deep breath in. _Fresh peppermint, star anise tea, and a deep earthy smell she couldn't pinpoint one specific item to._

Izzy dazedly reached her hand out to touch the entrancing potion, but before she could, a lid slammed on top of the cauldron, cutting off all scent wafting off.

Her eyes glanced up to see Snape's stern gaze. "Identify the potion, Ms. Griffiths," he demanded.

She swallowed down a sigh of almost disappointment as the haziness flew out of her mind. "Erm.." she wracked her mind for the potions she had read about, the characteristics of each type of potion. She thought out loud, "I assume not everyone smells the same thing...compelling smell, so an attraction or love potion of some sort...incredibly strong...it had a sheen...amortentia!" She smiled as she came to the conclusions, almost 100% sure of herself.

Snape nodded approvingly, "Good. How did you come by to know a N.E.W.T.-level potion?"

Izzy felt herself blush. "I, erm, may or may not have read a few extra books. I, er, like Potions," she mumbled.

"You have an aptitude for Potions. If you are capable, I would like for us to have extra lessons every day starting Monday."

It took Izzy a moment to process what he was asking of her. "You, you want _me_? Would we be studying more advanced potions?" she blurted, feeling excitement bubble up in her at the thought of being allowed to more ingredients and techniques.

"Amongst other things," Snape carefully answered, his hands coming to interlock with one another. Before she could inquire as to what that meant, he politely - or as politely as he got - questioned, "Dinner starts soon. Should you not be making your way down to the Great Hall?"

She recognized the dismissal and made her way to leave, her mind going into overload from elatedness. Izzy paused at the door before turning back to Snape who was cleaning up. Before she lost her nerve, she cleared her throat and spoke, "Thank you. For the lessons, I mean," and with that, she strode down to the Great Hall.

* * *

A cold sheen of sweat coated Izzy's skin as she shot up, breathing heavily. She sighed, blinking away the remnants of her nightmares, and stepped out of bed, careful to not wake the other girls.

She pulled on a pair of loose pyjama pants and a tank top before she padded out into the common room, and then the corridors. Izzy cautiously strolled, keeping an eye out for Filch and that damned cat of his every time she rounded a corner, and then finally arrived at the kitchens. The painting of the pears swung open after being tickled, and she stepped inside. It was a month since term started and the first time she'd visited the kitchens since.

As soon as she settled herself in the familiar warm environment, the house elves happily swarmed her. Excited cheers of "Missus Izzy is back!" went round the room. She laughed, greeting them all by name, before spotting a particular house elf who she had been keen to see. Bibble ran, arms outstretched, and barreled into her. Izzy encased Bibble in a hug, and the other house elves dismissed themselves and contentedly began to work again.

"Hey Bibble, how have you been?" she questioned, setting Bibble back to where she had been standing before. The little elf looked back up at her with large hazel eyes. "Bibble has been great! How has Missus Izzy been? She looks thinner, can Bibble get Missus anything to eat?"

Initially, she was going to say no, but she'd been craving this since she saw it at the feast and all the pigs had eaten it up before she'd had the chance to get any. "Some chocolate icecream sundae? With extra toffee bits on top maybe?"

Bibble beamed. "Coming right up, Missus."

She went right to work, and Izzy watched in awe at the elves' efficiency. It was a good thing that the Muggle world didn't know about house elves, otherwise they'd be worked to death. This was still incredibly gracious treatment, which of course Dumbledore would provide. The first time she'd had enough nerve to ask something of the elves, she'd attempted to give them some loose Knutes she'd kept on her for random situations, but they'd declined, almost taking offense. She'd learned her lesson since then.

Izzy was snapped out of her thoughts when Bibble placed the mouthwatering sundae in front of her. "Thank you Bibble, really," she sent a fond smile towards the elf and was rewarded with another hug. "Bibble has to go back to working but let her know if Missus would like anything!" and with that, she was off doing some job or the other.

Izzy devoured the sundae and then set it by a sink, rinsing it first to make it slightly easier for whichever elf would take care of it. She left the kitchens after bidding Bibble and the other elves goodbye, and then decided to go take a walk in the fresh air; none of the professors, hopefully, would see.

The air was fresh and dewy, a pleasant chill falling over the grounds. She strolled at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, hoping the dementors would stay far enough away. After a good hour or so of walking, she became aware of soft padding footsteps behind her. Izzy stopped moving, turned around, and kept her breath bated. In the darkness, her eyes made out the outline of a figure heading toward the Whomping Willow. She nearly groaned, but her curiosity got the best of her, and she swiftly strode to follow it. It seemed somewhat like a dog shaped figure.

It had nearly made it to base of the Willow, but her focus was on the animal and she didn't see the large pile of dry leaves fallen which crunched underfoot. She hissed in a breath as it turned abruptly, and found herself staring right into its eyes. She kept every muscle tensed as it moved closer and closer until it was mere inches away. Izzy slowly dropped to one knee, remembering her mum telling her to be slow and friendly to the sweet neighborhood dog when she was young.

Her arm stretched out, hovering inches above the dog's face. For a moment, she was afraid it might bite her. However, the dog lifted his head to touch his nose to her hand. The corners of her mouth lifted as he nearly purred and curled into her warmth. She frowned at how matted his fur was and how thin he felt against her. "I'll fix you up, mm? Oh I hope you're going to be here tomorrow," she murmured, stroking his fur.

He turned his head to face her, and Izzy somehow got the sense that he understood her words. She grinned at him, and he slowly spread his mouth wide, panting, and flashed his version of a toothy smile. The dog licked her cheek once, resulting in her surprised laugh, and then ran back to the Whomping Willow before disappearing.

She sat atop the slight hill for a few more minutes before heading back to the castle, vowing to bring her new companion some food.

* * *

The next night, Izzy snuck out with some stolen bread she'd hidden in her robes from dinner and made her way back near the Whomping Willow. She sat herself down on the grassy top and waited until she heard soft panting behind her.

Izzy grinned and held out the bread for the dog. He nearly attacked it, and she wondered once more how long it had been before he'd had a proper meal. She petted his mane while he ate, and once he was done eating, he looked up at her with those intelligent eyes. Izzy pulled herself to her feet and tilted her head towards the school. "Come on, we're going to get you all clean," she gently murmured, walking slowly so as not to startle him. He seemed to reluctantly pad along her side, his gaze shooting from side to side. Izzy soothed him, whispering "it's okay" over and over again, hoping that he wouldn't bark.

Thankfully, he seemed to understand enough to even quiet his steps as they made their way to the large prefect's bathroom; Fred and George had managed to figure out the password and passed it on to her for the price of her having to sneak into Hogsmeade and get them all butterbeer. She got all the bubbles and warm water going into the near pool-sized tub before leading the dog in there, climbing in herself to properly wash his fur.

He practically purred and then shook his shiny wet hair, splashing soapy dirty water all over Izzy. Laughter rang through the warm room as she wiped herself off and attempted to find a towel to dry him off. "You know, I need something to call you," she told him as he followed her around.

"You seem to enjoy padding around," she smiled as she went through the cupboard, finding a blue towel. He shook his head up and down frantically as she knelt down. "What, padding?"

His tail wagged in confirmation before he pawed her hands over and over. "Erm...foot?" she guessed.

"Padding foot?" she laughed as she dried him off. "Hmmm...Padding foot. Padfoot?"

A soft happy yelp found its way out from his mouth. "Your name...Padfoot?" she questioned.

He clambered out of her hold and chased his tail before jumping up. "Alright, settle down, Padfoot. I hate to do this, but, I need to take you back outside. I wish I could keep you inside," she said, wondering why she was explaining this all out.

Padfoot bobbed his head up and down like he understood and then headed out the washroom, seeming to remember his own way out. Izzy just shook her head and dried herself off before returning to her dormitory, falling fast asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: damn, it's been awhile. Oops. Good news, school's basically over, after it kicked my ass for a good semester. That means I can write more, yaaay. Sorry the chapter's on the shorter end, I wanted to leave it on a cliffhanger, because I'm a terrible person. Worth it XD. Please review, a writer loves hearing what you guys have to say, whether it be good stuff or constructive criticism. Let me know watcha think =)**

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

Izzy found a schedule in the next few weeks. A majority of the day was spent in classes. Time was spent on her budding amounts of homework as final exams inched closer and closer. Once 6:50 arrived, it was a brisk walk to her private Potions classes in the dungeons, which she found herself looking forward to. Then off to dinner where she'd take as much food as she could without arousing suspicion, after which there was some spare time to be with Fred and George. When they had all gone back to the dormitories, she'd wait until the breathing of her dorm members had evened out before walking down onto the grounds to feed and occasionally bathe Padfoot, whom she now considered a friend.

All in all, Izzy's life at Hogwarts was not only bearable, but was becoming enjoyable. The other Slytherins' insults no longer held sway of her, and therefore made no difference to her, much to the irritation of the purebloods.

After successfully completing a particularly tricky potion Snape had assigned for her, Izzy was practically radiant as she cleaned up the area. The only sounds were of items being put away. Izzy didn't even notice him next to her until his wand popped up in her vision. With a flick, everything was put away for her. "Thank you, Professor," she smiled a little at him. He tipped his chin in acknowledgement. "Miss Griffiths, the potion you just created was far beyond N.E.W.T. level. Even the most knowledged wizards have difficulty in completing it, and you've done it within a fraction of the time that it's meant to be made in." Snape's indirect praise washed over Izzy, her cheeks flushing. "That's all well and such, but...what good is it all in the long run?"

Immediately, she regretted letting the words pass through her mouth as a glint of anger entered the professor's eyes. "'What good is it'? Miss Griffiths, do you recall what I said to you all on the very first day of class?"

Izzy tentatively shook her head no, her head tilted downwards in apology. "In a summary, potions are the key to everything. You can make anything and everything so long as you have the imagination for it and the skills to boot. Being able to make the potions are one thing, but understanding the theories behind it all...that's what matters. Understanding and analysing what's around you is the key to surviving," he finished, emphasizing the last sentence. Snape's eyes glittered, and Izzy understood the veiled meaning behind his words.

"Being able to analyse the motives - er, _uses_ \- of that around us, it allows us to remain ten steps ahead, prevent us from a slip-up that could cost more than a failed potion," she tried to make sense of what he had said, fidgeting.

He gave a sharp nod. "Precisely." Snape walked back to his desk and sat, a silent dismissal. Izzy made her way to the dorms, her mind abuzz from what the Potions Master had told her.

* * *

That night, she was sitting with Padfoot in the prefect's bathroom. She had taken to bringing him there on particularly cold nights, and though spring was fast approaching, the wind resolutely rebelled that night. She fed him, laying on the tiles of the room after.

"...and so George gave Lee the slip to chat up Angelina. What he didn't know is that earlier, Lee told her that George was given a dare to get her to go out with him, and that if George followed through on that, he'd be a pig. Angelina seemed to agree, seeing as George still has a red palm print on his cheek where she slapped him," Izzy laughed. She tended to talk about her day to Padfoot, or just talk to him in general. On nights when she was upset, she'd whisper him stories of her mum and dad, and he would nuzzle closer to her. On nights like that night, when she was happier, his tail would go back and forth as he panted, giving her that same toothy grin as that one time so long ago.

Padfoot pawed at her knee, asking for her attention. "What?" she asked.

He looked directly into her eyes, looking almost sad, with a request in his eyes. She held his gaze. What happened next confused her beyond all belief. One minute she was looking at the furry face of Padfoot, the next, a ragged worn face of a man that plastered the Daily Prophet's front page: Sirius Black.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Hiya. Life's a bitch sometimes. Hopefully reading makes it a little better to you guys. Love and prayers go out to the families who lost innocents in Manchester, and love and prayers for the innocent Muslim families accused for something they didn't do and are mourning like the rest of us.**

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

She should've screamed, or at least backed away. However, Izzy did neither of those things. She shut down the tiny flicker of fear that would've drowned out any rational thought and instead stood up smoothly, attempting to connect the lovable dog to the convicted criminal before her.

 _He can't have transfigured himself, I didn't see a wand...an Animagus. Of course. That must be how he escaped, too._

She stared at the hollow face, and realized that she wasn't repulsed, or even angry at the man said to have killed 12 muggles. All she had was longing for her old friend back, the reality where the dog was simply just a dog. With a start, she noticed that he had been talking.

"...do it. It wasn't me, you must know that. Please consider that before you go to your head," he ran a hand through his hair. "McGonagall was always quite strict as it is," he laughed.

Izzy found only one thing to respond to. "My head of house is Professor Snape."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "But you're a muggleborn, and you tell stories about the Weasley's, they're in Gryffindor, are they not?"

Izzy nodded. "I am a muggleborn. In _Slytherin_. Why do you think my only friends are in Gryffindor?" She raised an eyebrow of her own. Some part of her was in disbelief that she was having a civil conversation with _Sirius Black_ , of all people.

His eyes held understanding. "So, you won't tell?"

She crossed her arms. "Give me proof."

Sirius hesitated for a moment, which Izzy took to her advantage. " _Expelliarmus_." His wand flew out into her hand. "Just in case," she spoke gently, sitting down.

"Understandable. Do you know the story, that I killed 12 people? Well, that's a load of shi - erm, _dung_. It started back when James, Peter, Remus, and I-" Izzy cut him off. "Remus? As in Lupin?"

Sirius nodded in confirmation. "Yes. We all used to be the best of friends, even as the war came against You-Know-Who. I was named Harry Potter's godfather after he was born. We encouraged James and Lily to go into hiding, using the Fidelius to make sure no one found out, and I was the Secret-Keeper. However, there was a snitch, I suspected it to be Remus, and so without telling anyone but Dumbledore, I gave up my position to Peter. You can imagine how much I regret that now." Despair clouded his sunken eyes.

"He was the snitch, wasn't he," Izzy murmured, not really asking but rather asking for confirmation to something she already knew.

He nodded. "And when I went to confront him, he stopped me in the middle of a muggle street, saying a load of nonsense about _me_ killing James and Lily. He held his wand behind his back, and killed those poor people, and then Animagi-ed himself into a rat after cutting off his finger."

"All they ever found of him was a finger," Izzy whispered in sick realization. "But, that would mean a rat is running around without a finger, and that's imposs…" her voice trailed off as a certain rat popped into her mind.

"Scabbers," she breathed. "Ron Weasley's rat, Scabbers - that's _Peter_. But, he's been missing for awhile, Ron practically broadcasts that Crookshanks-"

"Oh, yes, the cat," Sirius recognizes, "Yes, he's been trying to catch Peter for quite some time now for me. He's taken rather a liking to me, in my dog form at least," Sirius sheepishly scratched his neck.

Izzy shook her head disbelievingly. "Yes well, Crookshanks apparently 'ate' Scabb - erm, Peter. Ron found blood stains and Crookshanks' hair on his bedsheets."

Sirius growled savagely, making Izzy wonder if being a dog for so long addled the human mind afterwards. "Of course. Classic Peter, he's a master at faking his own death."

Izzy nodded, and for a long while, no words were spoken between the two; only the comfortable yet slightly worried silence sat midst the two. Sirius had the same air of thoughtfulness and deep sadness, dog or human.

"How can I help?" Izzy said finally, voice dry.

A pause. "You can't," Sirius glanced up warily. "I already am indebted to you for caring for me, and I'm grateful, but there's nothing you can do. This is how Peter stayed alive for as long as he did; the damn coward hides. I'll find him though." Sirius had so much hatred and sorrow in his voice that she couldn't help feel an ache in her heart for him.

Izzy took a deep breath. "It's getting late, the teachers will be out soon. You should get going," she stood up.

Sirius responded by wordlessly transforming back into Padfoot. She led him out into the night, and then promptly passed out from exhaustion as soon as she returned to the Slytherin dorms.

* * *

"Oh they've caught Sirius Black, the Daily Prophet must hear of this…"

Izzy stopped dead in her tracks as she heard the Minister's muttering as he came up the hallway to the infirmary. She had been released early in the morning near two because during the Potions final, Pansy had dreadfully made her Calming Concoction into a violent mass of bubbling blue goop, which had spattered all over Izzy the next table over. Some of it even got into her potion, which she hastily attempted to fix, refusing to go to the infirmary(despite the blue pimples that began to pop up _everywhere_ ) until her Calming Concoction was the proper translucent shade of light blue.

She had seen Harry, Ron, and Hermione passed out on the cots but had thought nothing of it; who could blame her, Madame Pomfrey practically expected them at least thrice a term. _Though, considering the Trio's reputation, it would be no surprise if they were with Sirius too, on the night he was caught, that to_ o, she thought grimly, and crept back to the infirmary, careful not to draw the attention of the Minister.

Izzy groaned the moment she stepped inside. "Something...something _burns_ ,"

Madame Pomfrey rushed over and helped her to a cot. A flicker of success bloomed in her stomach, somewhat subduing the growing anxiety that she would no longer be having midnight meetings with Padfoot.

The Minister, Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Snape marched into the hospital. Izzy noted through one eye that Snape looked perhaps the most savagely happy she had ever seen him.

Apparently, Harry and Hermione had noticed too, since they both jumped up, saying Sirius was innocent. They talked about the same story Sirius had told her, and her heart leapt with hope: Dumbledore would believe them, and Sirius wouldn't get the Dementor's Kiss.

Snape nearly growled, talking nonsense about how Black had imperious-ed them well. Anger bubbled beneath the surface, and the noise died down as the Minister and Snape left to go witness the kiss being bestowed on Sirius. Dumbledore spoke in hushed tones to Hermione and Harry, and Izzy felt a bubble of bitterness, that she wasn't to help him, her friend. Dumbledore exited the infirmary. She sneaked a glance, and no Harry and Hermione.

She let her guard down, and thought she may as well get some sleep while she could. However, the next moment, Harry and Hermione burst into the infirmary, looking worse for wear, and plopped into their cots, seemingly waiting for something.

That question was answered within minutes, when Snape's outraged roar echoed throughout the grounds, followed by Snape himself marching into the infirmary, followed by a bewildered Fudge and a practically skipping Dumbledore. "YOU!" he pointed a finger at Harry, proceeding to blame Harry for the escape of Sirius Black. The word bounced around her mind.

 _Escape. Escape. Escape. He's free now._

After an incredulous Madame Pomfrey shooed the men out of the infirmary so as to take care of her patients, Izzy shot out of bed, walking to the Trio.

"Hello, Izzy," Hermione spoke politely, after nudging Harry to get his attention.

"Is Sirius alright?" Izzy asked, practically shaking.

Shock mirrored on their facing. "How do you-"

"I took care of Sirius for half a term as Padfoot, but he revealed himself and told me everything a month or so ago," Izzy explained impatiently. "Now answer me instead of gaping like fish, is Sirius alright? What happened? Is Pettigrew dead?"

The two exchanged glances, trying to see if they could trust her or not.

"He's safe. He went off with Buckbeak, and no, Pettigrew is alive." That last bit seemed to be a tender point for Harry, as he had to force the words out.

She nodded slowly, taking in the information. "Oh. Please, erm, please tell him that Izzy says hello, and that I hope he's alright, if you'll be in touch with him. He was a good friend."

Izzy said no more and didn't look back when she strode out of the dormitory, feeling suddenly hollow instead of joy. _I'm selfish, so so selfish_ , she thought, because though she was happy he had escaped, bitterness coated her tongue like glue that yet another friend she had was gone, gone and the only person he cared about was Harry.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: okay so...it's been over a year. Oops. Sorry guys, highschool is time consuming, and I'm sad I let go of writing for a long time, but I reread some stuff and fell in love with Izzy and the wizarding world all over again, so hopefully I'll be back for awhile, at least until school starts! For anyone who has read the rest of this fic, it's around fourth year that I planned for each year to get longer and longer as Izzy grows and more events/drama take place and as her emotions themselves become more complex, so just a little warning about the length of each year! I hope you're having a fantastic day, and please rate and review!**

* * *

Izzy stood, uncertain of her decision as she stood on the steps of the orphanage next to Madame Lacey, holding a small rucksack. It held only a few pairs of clothes and her wand. Fred and George had owled her late at night, when even Madame Lacey was asleep. Going outside and painstakingly reading one or two words at a time when a glimpse of moon shone on it, she was thrilled to hear that they wanted her to come over for the Quidditch World Cup.

Unfortunately, her leaving had to be approved by Madame Lacey, or else she wouldn't have anywhere to go to come end of term next summer. Thus, she waited for Mr. Weasley to show up and take her away for another year, since term was starting very soon after the Cup.

She spotted a balding head of red with two bright sprouts in tote. Izzy fought the corners of her mouth turning up. Mr. Weasley stepped in front of the two, smiling down to Izzy and then at Madame Lacey. She gave a polite smile and nodded, else Madame Lacey decide to keep her at the godforsaken orphanage. Manners were essential, parents or not.

Directing his attention to Madame, Mr. Weasley brightly extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Madame Lacey if I'm correct. I'll be taking Izzy off your charge for a week before she's off to, er, school," he caught himself before he could say Hogwarts, thankfully.

Madame's frown deepened as she ignored his outstretched hand, which he awkwardly let shift to his side. "Yes, she'll be gone soon, thankfully. Thank you for taking her off my hands," she looked to me and sneered as Mr. Weasley's cheeks coloured. Fred and George piped in, "Dad, we need to get going, Mum's going to go ballistic if we're late. We'll be off now," they took Izzy's rucksack from her and began walking, dragging Mr. Weasley away before an argument erupted.

Mr. Weasley seemed to be venting to himself, his eyebrows downturned and angry, as they walked. Fred muttered, "Same thing happened when we picked up Harry, Dad lost it when his aunt and uncle refused to say goodbye to Harry."

"Oh. That's so sweet of him, it means he must really love you all, if he thinks that highly of children."

"Ugh, you are _such_ a sap, and here we were hoping you'd be less like Gin," George sighed.

Elbowing him in the gut, Izzy grinned and held back a laugh as they stepped into a dark alley, Mr. Weasley grabbing hold of an old tin can.

"Now hold on, all of you," Mr. Weasley said.

In the next moment, Izzy felt a sensation of pushing and pulling against her all at once, and spinning through nothing and everything and _oh I'm going to lose my stomach_ \- suddenly, there was solid ground and a soft breeze blowing on her face. She opened her eyes and looked up at the burrow.

George rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not much, but, it's home."

Izzy looked in awe at the cozy house, at the warm atmosphere and addicting smell of comforting food wafting out the window. "It's wonderful,"

Mr. Weasley heard these words and beamed in pride.

Fred piped up, "Iz, quit being so emotional else we'll have you de-knome the garden" he claimed, in the next second throwing her over his shoulder, carrying her in, laughing.

She shrieked a little at first but just rested her elbows on Fred's back, looking back at a bemused George in the doorway.

"FRED, NO RUNNING IN THE KITCH - oh this must be Isador," Mrs. Weasley's eyes sparkled. "You're a spritely little thing, we'll fix that right up, they don't feed you enough at the orph-" she cut herself off, dismissing the unhappy thought. "Dear, take a seat, please," she waved her wand and a stool stepped out from under a table. "George, take her bag up to your room if you please," Molly Weasley glanced at Izzy. "I'm sorry you have to share room with the boys, it's just that Hermione's sleeping in Ginny's room, and Harry's already sleeping in Ron's room."

Izzy waves it off. "It's perfectly alright, Mrs. Weasley, really. I just hope the boys will be alright with sleeping in one bed," she laughs.

Fred shook his head. "You both do realize I'm still in the room, right?"

Mrs. Weasley, continuing to ignore Fred, "Oh they'll be alright. Now, Fred and George haven't told me much about you, which I'm a little upset about-" Fred groans, "-so please, dear, tell us about yourself," as she spoke, she put heapings of food onto a plate, setting it in front of Izzy.

"Oh, erm," Izzy shifted awkwardly. "I like hanging out with the twins, which usually entails messing with some friends. My favorite subject is Potions," she continued. She found herself warming up almost instantly to Mrs. Weasley. The red-headed woman was kind and motherly and insisted on giving Izzy a snack before dinner, claiming she only had a couple weeks to stuff her full before departing for Hogwarts. Iz, on her part, talked perhaps more than she ever had to an adult after her parents died, lightheartedly recalling pranks she had played on the twins, Mrs. Weasley chuckling when they grumbled at the particularly nasty ones("Serves you two right! A taste of your own tricks...")

After she was well past stuffed, feeling drowsy and full, the twins walked her up to their room, all too tired to do anything other than drop in their beds and fall fast asleep.

* * *

The morning came all too quickly as the hustle and bustle of the entire house getting ready for the World Cup woke her up. She groaned, the twins murmuring back their respective agreements of "too early". That is, until Mrs. Weasley barged on the door, yelling, "Get up! Unless you want to miss out, I suggest you get out of bed! _Now!_ "

Shivering from the cold, the three pulled themselves out of bed, all half asleep with messy hair. Izzy was instructed to go to the bathroom that Ginny and Hermione were sharing so as to avoid any possibly awkward moments with the boys of the house.

She trodded up a floor, and greeted Ginny 'good morning' and began to brush her teeth next to her when Hermione, in all her frizzy-haired fairness, walked into the bathroom. Her eyes widened.

"Oh, hello Isador! I didn't know you would be coming, when Fred and George said they were bringing a friend, I assumed it would be Lee Jordan…" catching Izzy's eyebrow raised, she hurried to catch herself, "Though I'm really glad it's you, it's been ages since we've talked and I'd love to get caught up!"

Izzy finished brushing her teeth, finally fully facing Hermione. She tried not to be angry with the girl who was smiling so hopefully and nervously at her. _It's not her fault she found new friends, and she's trying to be kind._ She attempted a weak smile.

"Erm, yeah, I'd like that. And it's Izzy, by the way, no one except the professors call me 'Isador'," she finished. Hermione let out a relieved sigh, and the morning went smoothly in the expected chaos. They left on a bit of a sour note, the twins getting reamed out by Mrs. Weasley, and the boys were in a foul mood.

Thankfully it passed quickly. Izzy hadn't said much to Ron and Harry, but had given them a friendly nod of acknowledgement, which they returned. It was progress, she supposed. _I'll have to ask them how Sirius is doing later on._ Sirius had sent one letter that arrived to her by a small minute owl while they were on the Hogwarts Express at the end of term, telling her not to worry and he'd be able to take care of himself, how he understood that it wouldn't be possible for them to communicate while she was at the orphanage. In the months that separated Izzy from the wizarding world, where all she had to think about were her memories, she had come to the conclusion that Sirius, perhaps alongside Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, was her favorite adult. He'd never patronized her, never treated her like a child, and never forgot anything she had said.

Izzy was jolted out of thought at the sound of new voices. Looking up, she saw an older looking man and a vaguely familiar boy whose identity didn't click until the man introduced themselves as the Diggory's. She couldn't help but notice his son, Cedric, was awfully handsome.

A sharp pain struck her gut as the air wooshed out of her. She glared at Fred. "What was that for, you git?" she hissed. He only grinned like a canary. "You were drooling Iz, I had to. Bit old for you, don't you think?" he asked, matter of factly.

Though she could feel her face flushing, she spat back, "So what, he's attractive, I'm a girl, hex me. Besides, at least he's _getting_ looks, unlike you two pathetic excuses for men." Both Fred and George failed to come up with a retort, still attempting to find a weak spot to retaliate with as they came upon the portkey that took them away to the world cup.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: It's been a long couple of weeks. I hope you guys are having a great day, and enjoy the chapter =) As always, rate and review**

* * *

As quickly as the World Cup had started, it had ended. Izzy gawked over Viktor Krum the entire time, nearly drooling until the twins elbowed her out of her trance. It astounded her that somehow, they won their bet of Ireland winning but Krum catching the skitch. They really did have a knack for this sort of thing.

She felt as though nothing could bring her down. She and the twins stayed up making up dirty limericks, but as soon as she heard the screaming begin, that feeling turned cold and dense, sinking.

Mr. Weasley's voice woke everyone up, telling them to run, to get out of the chaos. The twins were on their feet with Ginny in tow, and Harry, Hermione, and Ron were already out the tent. Fred tried his best to reach out to Izzy, ushering her to keep up, but somehow in the midst of everyone running around, she got turned around, separated from them. In panic, Izzy turned, trying to find somewhere to hide, sprinting towards a nearby patch of woods. Her heart pounded in relief when she saw a glint of familiar red hair disappearing into the brush.

Izzy slowed as she neared the woods. She couldn't be sure that there weren't any Death Eaters here, not after seeing the glimpses of torture as she escaped the campgrounds. Izzy shook her head, attempting to forget the terror of those poor people so that she could prevent herself from ending up just like that.

A bit of silver shone ahead. Izzy recognized it instantly, silently slipping behind a large trunk with bated breath. It was a Malfoy, she wasn't sure which one. She wasn't sure she wanted to know. She'd wager a dozen galleons that Lucius was one of the men in the masks, but she also wouldn't put it past him to track down his well known enemies, the Weasleys, under the protection of anonymity.

It was difficult to fight the breath of relief that came when she saw that it was Draco, not Lucius, nearing her. She was sure she was hidden, but he came to a stop near her anyway. All Izzy could hear was her heart pounding in her chest, hoping Malfoy couldn't. Alas, something must've given her away, since he turned from where he had stopped to look straight in her eyes.

She could have sworn she saw something comparable to fear for just a moment until it was replaced by his sneering expression.

"Better catch up to your friends. I just finished telling the other mudblood she should watch her back, she might be next. Or you," his eyes shone.

Izzy stepped out from the brush, barely able to contain her anger. "You wouldn't sound so cocksure if you didn't know your daddykins was out there with them. Don't think I can't see that you're scared, else you wouldn't be hiding here with the rest of us," she spat viciously, stepping closer to Malfoy until she was looking up at his face. "Do not test me. I may be a mudblood, but I will not hesitate to kick your sorry arse down, I will ruin you," she finished, her voice low.

Izzy had to admit, she felt a rush of pleasure at seeing Malfoy have school his expression into a neutral one, at knowing she won. He stormed away, muttering darkly under his breath. Catching her breath, she forged forward, attempting to find the twins. Instead, she was surprised to stumble onto the trio.

A twig cracked, and instantly wands were on her. Izzy raised her hands, "Relax, put your wands down, it's just me."

She felt something go funny inside her when Hermione kept her wand raised. "Hermione. It's just me. Please put your wand down," Izzy tried not to let her voice shake. She had thought they had at least gotten to trust each other. It didn't help when Ron and Harry kept looking at her, tensed, ready to protect Hermione. From me. Still Hermione's wand didn't go down.

Bile flooded her mouth. "Look if I was on their side, I'd be signing my own death wish. I'm a mudblood, remember?"

The word coming from her mouth seemed to shock them to their senses. She put her wand down, and the boys stood down. "Sorry," Ron offered. "Was just being ca...sorry."

Izzy shook her head, brushing it off, choosing to ignore the pain in her chest. "Where are Fred and George? Ginny was with them."

"We lost them in the crowd," Harry said, eyes wandering, searching.

Before Hermione could finish what she was going to say, a deep voice rang out. "MORSMORDE!"

In the sky, a huge skull, a snake looping around its mouth appeared. Her heart stopped. Hermione seemed to have the same reaction, moaning, grabbing for the boys' arms, dragging them away. "Come on, Izzy you too, we need to move," she spoke through bared teeth, eyebrows furrowed in worry, as the boys kept asking why, what it was. They made a considerable distance before Harry stopped them all.

"Hermione, what is it?" he demanded.

"It's the mark, Harry, it's his mark-"

Harry went still, and then yelled, "Get down!"

Izzy didn't need to be told twice, and no sooner than when they fell to the ground did over a dozen "STUPEFY"'s shot through where they just had been standing.

"Stop! STOP! Those are my kids!" Relief almost painful ran through Izzy's blood as she heard Mr. Weasley barreling through the people who presumably had attempted to stun them.

She could hardly stand to watch as they accused Harry of all people of casting the Dark Mark, finding instead Mr. Crouch's poor house elf. Izzy was with Hermione on this one; in no way was Winky capable of doing anything of the sort, and it was ridiculous that any seemingly competent wizard could think it was her, and she said such to Mr. Crouch. He looked at her with disdain, dismissing her, which only deepened her dislike for that man, before he proceeded to free the already weeping elf. Winky lay there sobbing, as Izzy's heart broke. The woods were illuminated with the light of the Dark Mark.

* * *

They all split up at Diagon Alley; Arthur and Molly with Ginny in tow, the Golden Trio, and Fred and George went with Izzy. Izzy, much like the Weasley's, bought everything second hand. Her parents hadn't been particularly wealthy people and even then, she had no access to her inheritance until she was 17 years of age, and though she got monthly fees to spend from the orphanage, they were incredibly limited. Trust Madame Lacey to keep every coin in her coffers.

The Weasley's knew that Izzy wasn't very wealthy, which is why Izzy was so surprised when the twins lead her to a clothing store near Madame Malkin's.

"Is this some kind of prank? Because if it is, you both are real prats, I don't need new clothes, I like the way I dress. It's sexist in the first place that women have to constantly be in touch with fashion and trends when wankers like you look like - " Izzy began hotly as they entered the shop, eyes blazing.

"Oh will you shut your bloody mouth, we're only here because Mum told us to make sure you get a nice set of dress robes," George cut her off, dumbly staring at the expanse of women's robes.

"Didn't bother telling us why we need them at all," Fred grumbled, picking a rack at random and starting to sort through.

"Oh," Izzy said, not feeling the slightest bit embarrassed at her outburst, beginning to look at the robes herself. She found a set of simple light grey robes that offset her caramel complexion nicely. The twins walked over, noting the pause.

"It's nice," Fred offered.

One look at the price tag, though, and she quickly put it back on the rack.

"Yeah, I thought so too," Izzy sighed and trudged towards the cheaper end of the store.

Sensing rather than seeing the look the twins exchanged, a colourless "what?" released out of her mouth.

"What if we made your dress robes?"

Izzy snorted. "What, and end up with itching powder in my arse? You two must be insane," finally turning to face them.

"No no, I mean, you'd be making the robes, as if we know anything about making clothes, no we could buy the fabric and whatnot today, and then just make it on our own with mum's help," George finished, looking quite pleased with himself.

Without warning, she barreled towards the two, one arm around either twin. "You're both the best," her voice muffled into their sides. Their arms came around her smaller frame.

"We know."

In the end, the fabric ended up being a great deal cheaper than the robes themselves, so she allowed herself to splurge a bit. In Izzy's arms were bolts of a deep emerald green fabric, a soft plush grey fabric, and a thin sheer material that resembled spun gold.

Youthful exuberance that only came from creation took over, nearly tripping over herself to get to the room she and the twins shared so that her new project could start. With a pen and paper, she drew out the kinds of robes she wanted, and brought it down for Mrs. Weasley's approval.

"Oh this is darling, you'll look wonderful, dear," she beamed.

A week or so passed, as Mrs. Weasley steadily demonstrated the skill she had, and the robes came together, Izzy and the twins privy to the process.

It was the day before they were to go to King's Cross that Izzy was packing her things into her trunk when she heard the matron of the house calling her down.

Excitement bubbled, and she sprinted down the stairs, coming to a halt when she saw the beautiful dress robes hanging in the air. The green fabric covered the bodice and made the tight fit of one sleeve, coming to a taper at the waist and flowing down to the gown. The other long sleeve was made of liquid sunlight, and the same material was used to cover the skirts. There was a hood where the inner lining of grey plush was visible.

"It's stunning, Mrs. Weasley," she choked out after a moment. Turning towards the woman, she felt a surge of adoration and respect for her. "Thank you, so much. Not just for the robes," Izzy spoke softly.

"Dear, it's the least I can do," the matriarch smiled and left to make the goodbye feast.


End file.
